Gypsy weddings? Pah! Try a pikey funeral . . .

Seadog

ADC
Did a funeral a few years ago for the matriarch of a local clan - Roy (who set up the funeral service) had 'done' The Da a couple of years before. I'm sat behind the BFO desk and in marches these two wizened, elf-like creatures who turn out to be the two eldest sons.

First Elf-Like Creature: 'Ah, and so da Mammy has gone, God rest . . . '

Second Elf-Like Creature: 'God rest'.

FE-LC: ' . . . and as yer mahn Roy did the Da proud . . .'

SE-LC: 'God rest'.

FE-LC: ' . . . we taught dat ye could do Herself'.

After a pause, during which I waited a further 'God rest' from SE-LC but came there none, I got all professional, like, put on my best obsequious and money-grabbing face and took some notes: removal from the family house (the tribe owned 2/3s of the street) and into a horse-drawn, 8 x Roller lims, a trot around town, into a Roller hearse, drive 20 miles down the A12, back into the horse-drawn and then off to interment for a full Catlick funeral mass.

'That's a bob or two', thinks I.

I made an excuse to leave the room and nipped upstairs to have a word with Roy.

'Take it!', he says. 'I've done some costings and come up with this. Are they good for it?'

'Trust me-they'll be back within the hour with the cash'.

Really? Meh.

Back down to see the two E-LCs and present them with an estimate.

FE-LC: 'Ah. Right. We'll be back in a bit.'

SE-LC: 'God bless'.

Which was a pleasant change.

An hour to the feckin' second and in they walk, each carrying two Tesco bags. Stuffed with cash.

And accurate to the pound.

The only time they'll pay a bill is when one of them dies? Can you tell what I'm thinking?
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Pardon the delay in replying.
 
I was surprised that he's being buried in England rather than Ireland.

As for the Funeral Director:



Funeral director Paul Brown (right) with My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding star Paddy Doherty (Picture: Yui Mok/PA Wire)

Could he not at least have shaved before going to work?
Shave for a Pikey funeral? I wouldn’t even bother wearing underwear.
 
The only time they'll pay a bill is when one of them dies? Can you tell what I'm thinking?
------------
Pardon the delay in replying.
Don't knock it-a month later, we had a couple of . . . errm . . . 'spare' trolley jacks brought around to the garage 'cos I mentioned that the standard ones were shite for hoiking up a Roller hearse.

Meh.
 
Did a funeral a few years ago for the matriarch of a local clan - Roy (who set up the funeral service) had 'done' The Da a couple of years before. I'm sat behind the BFO desk and in marches these two wizened, elf-like creatures who turn out to be the two eldest sons.

First Elf-Like Creature: 'Ah, and so da Mammy has gone, God rest . . . '

Second Elf-Like Creature: 'God rest'.

FE-LC: ' . . . and as yer mahn Roy did the Da proud . . .'

SE-LC: 'God rest'.

FE-LC: ' . . . we taught dat ye could do Herself'.

After a pause, during which I waited a further 'God rest' from SE-LC but came there none, I got all professional, like, put on my best obsequious and money-grabbing face and took some notes: removal from the family house (the tribe owned 2/3s of the street) and into a horse-drawn, 8 x Roller lims, a trot around town, into a Roller hearse, drive 20 miles down the A12, back into the horse-drawn and then off to interment for a full Catlick funeral mass.

'That's a bob or two', thinks I.

I made an excuse to leave the room and nipped upstairs to have a word with Roy.

'Take it!', he says. 'I've done some costings and come up with this. Are they good for it?'

'Trust me-they'll be back within the hour with the cash'.

Really? Meh.

Back down to see the two E-LCs and present them with an estimate.

FE-LC: 'Ah. Right. We'll be back in a bit.'

SE-LC: 'God bless'.

Which was a pleasant change.

An hour to the feckin' second and in they walk, each carrying two Tesco bags. Stuffed with cash.

And accurate to the pound.
Amazing how many drives you can tar in 59 minutes !
 

Kirkz

LE
back in the not too distant past , gyppos were buried in ditches in a corner of a field . Their possessions were smashed, you know all the crockery etc and the caravans were set fire to. Its a right bugger to trace their family trees , thats why you don't see a pikey on "who do you think you are " .
It's probably the big tree growing in the corner of the field near the ditch.
 
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